


die Maßlosigkeit

by Viridian5



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Denial, Drama, Horror, M/M, Missions, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-12-15
Updated: 2010-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:06:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes too much still isn’t enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	die Maßlosigkeit

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on completing this, but it's slow going. I posted this WIP to AO3 because many people seemed to like it when I put it up on my LiveJournal a while ago.
> 
> This fic uses the _Fullmetal Alchemist_ continuity from the first anime series. Small spoilers for _Weiß Kreuz: Glühen_ ’s “Last Mission 10: Velvet Underworld,” “Last Mission 11: Piece of Heaven,” “Last Mission 12: Epitaph,” “Last Mission 13: Tomorrow.”
> 
> The song is “Schwarze Witwe” by Eisbrecher, with the lines being sung translating to “Kiss me, black widow / Don’t feel pity for me tonight / Feed on me, black widow....” and the line Crawford has trouble remembering being “All my vitality / Is sinking into the chasm of passion....” The depressing Canadian film they’re referencing is _Hard Core Logo_. [The mausoleum](http://www.flickr.com/photos/26154094@N03/tags/johnstonmausoleum/) [with its bunny wreath](http://viridian5.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/4099) actually exists, but I have no idea what it looks like on the inside. 
> 
> Music for this fic includes Neuroticfish’s _Les Chansons Neurotiques_ and parts of Poe’s _Haunted_.

_“Just remember what I said,_  
 _Don’t wake me up when I am dead.”_  
  -- “Wake Me Up” by Neuroticfish  
\----------------------------------------------

“How did you get my cell phone number? Why would you think I’d want the services you claim you can supply or even believe they could actually be done?” Crawford asked, annoyed. He’d worried that he might have become more careless over the last few days. That this woman had found him and knew enough about him to make claims that _could_ draw him out suggested as much.

She looked like a young woman and had a suspiciously nondescript man in a suit and trench coat as her companion/bodyguard. “I have certain abilities. Your own experiences should show that I might not be lying about them,” she said in English with an odd accent. She smelled heavily of perfume but underneath wafted a scent of rot, which somehow fit her. “He’s been gone for three days now, hasn’t he?”

Usually he had a better rein on his temper. “He’s dead. Let’s not sugarcoat it.”

“I only tried to respect whatever feelings you might have.” She couldn’t quite hide a sneer.

“I have no feelings.”

“I see. So you’re not interested?”

“Are you really claiming that you can resurrect him?”

“I can try. It only works for a very high sacrifice. More likely is that the effort will create a homunculus that will resemble him, even down to his abilities. Sometimes they have some of the memories of the people you tried for. You could train him to be a match for the partner you lost or someone even better.”

Really, that was what this was about. Schuldig’s death had left an empty space in the services Crawford could provide clients and with Eszett destroyed he no longer had a steady source of new talent to draw from. The psionics who had scattered across the globe after its destruction tended to be unstable, demanding, and often only half-trained. 

He didn’t need Schuldig. He didn’t. He needed a suitable replacement. “How closely would a homunculus resemble my associate?”

“It might unsettle you how much he will.” She shrugged. “The coloring is often somewhat different. He will have cool skin and no heartbeat. I can’t promise you what his abilities will be. But this is a commitment you’d be making, Mr. Crawford. This wouldn’t be some pet you could starve, drown, or abandon if you tired of him. He would be very, very hard to kill. He’ll probably outlive you.”

Crawford’s heart pounded. A partner who would be nearly impossible to kill... would be so useful in their profession. “What would you need?” Despite the unseasonable warmth, the park they’d agreed to meet in was nearly empty now, and the noise of the fountain they stood next to would cover their talk.

“His body and a suitable sacrifice, someone whose loss would cost you.”

“His body was badly burned, with some of the bones exposed.” The eyes had melted out of their sockets, all the hair had burnt away, and some of the charred flesh had peeled off onto the blanket Crawford had used to wrap it up and drag it away from the burnt-out ruins. The corpse hadn’t even looked like Schuldig anymore, adding to the unreality of the situation even though Crawford had felt their telepathic link snap and stop in his head. 

Schuldig _couldn’t_ die without permission.

Crawford had been waiting to dispose of it and bought a large freezer to keep it in while he decided. Perhaps his talent had foreseen that having it would be necessary today.

“Then the human sacrifice is even more important.”

“What’s in it for you?” he asked.

“You’re a man of very specific and valuable skills. I may need to hire them in the future. Thus, I want you at your best.”

“What proof do I have that you can do any of this?”

When she clapped her hands together and then put one hand on a nearby post, it shuddered and twisted in her grip until it became a long sword. “I’m an alchemist of great power, Mr. Crawford. You’ll have to trust me on the rest because raising the dead is not some little magic trick to be done lightly.” 

A few days ago Crawford would have laughed at her and sent her on her way. A few days ago, life had been very different. Now, what she said made some sense. “I can have what you asked for by tomorrow night.”

“Then you’ll get a new partner tomorrow night.” 

******************************************************

The next night he gave her Schuldig’s corpse and one living, panicked, and trussed up Marc Vosburgh, a crime boss of great power and stature whom Crawford could have used in the future for jobs and connections, a great sacrifice to his business interests. Crawford felt almost sick with anticipation as he watched her draw symbols on the warehouse floor and had her minion place the blanket-wrapped corpse and Vosburgh’s struggling body in the midst of it. Once she had everything to her specifications, she placed her hands on the edge of the symbols, drawing forth a blinding flash of light and Vosburgh’s screams. It annoyed Crawford that he couldn’t see what was happening. If he had to kill her for making a fool of him, he wanted advance warning.

When it dimmed enough that Crawford had only firework sparks in his vision, she and her minion crouched around something. Crawford caught a glimpse of a wet, badly disfigured limb.... The man with her said, “Yes, tasty, aren’t they? Eat. Eat. You’ll be a pretty one.” 

Crawford rushed up and pushed the man aside to see the results. It wasn’t Schuldig. It was Schuldig. It had his features, though it looked more like a younger Schuldig, but its skin was so much paler, its hair was black with a faint green sheen, and its eyes were purple with slit pupils. As it munched on something hard and red, it looked up at him and ripped into his mental defenses, all strength and almost no skill. Crawford tried to throw his knowledge of every telepathic control trick Schuldig had ever mentioned just to get it to stop.

“I’m Schuldig!” it said with Schuldig’s voice then looked sad and said, “No. No, I’m not. I’m hungry. And I’m not an ‘it.’ I’m your sin, Brad.”

This was not disappointment Crawford felt. Not yet. He hadn’t really expected to get Schuldig himself back. Not really. That would have been too much, too unrealistic. At least the homunculus seemed to be controlling its telepathy now instead of indiscriminately tearing at his mind.

Telepathy. It might have Schuldig’s speed as well. This definitely wasn’t disappointment Crawford felt. Schuldig was lost to him, and he had to get used to it.

Did the revenant really murmur, “Nevermore”? Or maybe Crawford had just completely lost his mind.

******************************************************

As Crawford drove them home, it lightly and uneasily touched its shirt and pants. “These colors are wrong,” it said. He hadn’t thought to bring a coat for it....

Crawford had burned most of Schuldig’s things but thankfully found an overlooked bag of new clothing in a corner of the closet. “You have more at the apartment.” Three shirts and two pairs of pants.

“No, they’re wrong. I need... my colors. I have to shop.”

Eerie resemblance. And it had Schuldig’s voice. “You don’t have any money.”

“I... he made a wage. He’s not using it now. I want my money. And I’m still not an it.”

“Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“I read your mind. I know where we live and how to get there.”

“You want to be away from me already?”

“You’re distracting, Brad.”

Crawford fought off a shiver and handed it a credit card. “Fine.” He couldn’t keep it at his side at all times. It would be useless if it couldn’t operate on its own.

Maybe he would be better off if it didn’t return.

“Thanks. Drop me off at the Village.”

What fashion monstrosities would it come back with? A part of Crawford was afraid to find out. But he let it out of the car at Washington Square Park anyway.

As he drove home he felt overwhelmed by his success and failure, all embodied in one cat-eyed, cool-skinned revenant. It was enough like Schuldig to rattle him and enough unlike Schuldig to rattle him.

Crawford went home and tried to read. After three hours of that the door buzzer went off, but it was Nagi at the outside door. Damn it. He’d seen Nagi two days ago as well when the boy--no, no longer a boy--had come with sympathies and a job offer, both of which Crawford had refused. 

“Nothing has changed, Nagi,” Crawford said into the intercom.

“One of my precogs says he got a feeling something unsettling will happen to you but couldn’t see more detail. I came to see how you are.” 

“I’m fine. You can go home.”

“I want to make sure you-- Who the hell-- You sick fuck!”

His revenant must have just come home. Bad timing and bad luck could strike unexpectedly. They’d killed Schuldig. Annoyed, Crawford triggered the doors to unlock. If there had to be a confrontation, better to have it in private.

Nagi, the revenant, and a young woman Crawford had never seen before walked into the apartment. The revenant and the goth girl carried shopping bags, while Nagi looked shocked and angry. It now wore all black and dark blue, eschewing the bright colors Schuldig had loved. But the cut and style of its clothing could have come from Schuldig’s tastes.

“Look who followed me home, Brad. She wanted to help and gave me a ride,” the revenant said with a smile that looked exactly like Schuldig’s smirk. And how Schuldig of it to show its anger and hurt by taking adoration from strangers. “Thanks, Carrie.”

“Don’t mention it. Come by again. You look great!” Still ogling the revenant, she waved and walked out.

“What the hell is this?” Nagi asked. Unlike the last time, he didn’t wear a suit, perhaps to foster the idea of this being a concerned visit instead of business. “Crawford? What did you do? Where did you get him from? This is _not_ Schuldig.”

“I’m not Schuldig. Crawford knows that too, Nagi,” the revenant agreed. “I’m Niemand. And I don’t like people talking about me like I’m not in the fucking room.”

“Did you name him ‘nobody’?”

“I named myself,” it said. “I know I’m not Schuldig, and Crawford knows I’m not Schuldig. I already told you that. If you _have_ to know, I’m one of Eszett’s old projects. I took a lot of shit for it from people. Mr. Crawford wanted to keep his autonomy and needed a telepathic replacement. I wanted to work with somebody who wouldn’t care what I was. We both benefit. Get off our backs.”

It made a good story. A very good, believable story.

“I don’t think this is healthy, not when you look so much like--”

“Look, Nagi, I understand that you left Schwarz because you wanted more power and independence. That’s fine. But you can’t come back and try to have your say as if you’re still a member of the team. You don’t have the right anymore.”

Nagi gaped.

“I’m sorry, Nagi,” Crawford said, relieved to have... Niemand mete out the slapdown so he wouldn’t have to, “but you can’t change my mind about taking Niemand on as a partner.”

“This isn’t over.” 

“It’s over.” Crawford didn’t have to put up with the judgment and pity in Nagi’s eyes. He refused. “You can let yourself out. Now.”

Nagi left, but Crawford could tell that the boy hadn’t been dissuaded from meddling. As much as it annoyed him, they might have to move out.

“It’s a shame the kid was here,” the revenant said. “I had plans for Carrie.” It grinned and touched his shoulder. “Nothing that would have left a corpse! Honestly, Brad, I know I died on you a few days ago while the vision you got didn’t come early enough to save me, but you should cheer up and live a little! There’s time enough to be dismal when you’re dead.”

“You gave a stranger directions to our home.”

“She won’t remember. Trust me.”

Crawford had such a headache. He shrugged off its arm and said, “I’m going to bed.” It was 10 p.m., not a ridiculously early time to call it a night.

“I’m not an ‘it.’ You can use ‘he’ or ‘Niemand.’ I’m not a revenant either. I’m a homunculus. And what I am supposed to do? I don’t sleep.”

Crawford had no words for the feelings crowding his head and chest. “There’s a TV you can watch on low volume. Or read the paper.”

“You’re no fun.” Niemand got a distant look on its face. “I’m hungry....”

When Crawford reached his bedroom he locked the door behind him. 

******************************************************

He woke up suddenly, feeling something out of place. It had happened to him the last few nights. He put on his glasses and picked up his gun, silently walking through the house muzzle first, in case this time wasn’t a false alarm.

He found Niemand sitting and rocking on the counter in the kitchen in the dark. When he turned on the light, it whined, “I’m still so hungry, Brad....” Schuldig’s blue eyes had been hard and bright like gems, but Niemand’s purple ones seemed more like a murky wine you could fall into and get lost in without ever finding anything living in there.

“Eat something, idiot.” But when Crawford opened the refrigerator door he found that everything had been cleaned out. “Where-- I don’t even see any containers!”

“None of it satisfied me.”

“You ate the fucking containers too?” 

“I was hungry.” Schuldig-fast, Niemand grabbed his hand and licked his fingertips with its cool tongue, shuddering and making little sounds of satisfaction. It felt so damned strange. Schuldig had had such a talented mouth. But then it opened its mouth to show strong white teeth.... Maybe he shouldn’t have set the gun down on the table.

Crawford tried to yank his hand away. “Let go.”

“Tasty, Brad....”

“Let go _now_.” He would be firm with it, and it would obey.

It pouted at him like a child but let him go and licked its lips. It had some kind of mark--perhaps a symbol--on its tongue that Crawford couldn’t make out during its brief appearance. Dammit. It _was_ a revenant. Did it have a taste and craving for human flesh? 

“‘He,’ you bastard. ‘He’! And I’m not some fucking zombie!”

“Deal with it. It’s not as if you can die from hunger.”

“It hurts. It hurts so much.”

“Deal with it.” Still, it made Crawford uncomfortable to see Niemand behaving like this, like a child in pain, and he couldn’t think why. He should feel only pure annoyance.

Niemand wrapped its-- his arms around himself and tilted his head down. With the black color and the fineness of the strands, his hair could have been made of raven feathers. “Why did you make me when you hate me so much for not being him? Or is this your way of getting back at him for dying like that?” It seemed that he had Schuldig’s love of trying to rip out Crawford’s heart and parade around with it.

Crawford hated the pain that last question inspired in him. Perhaps his fatigue made him this weak. “You didn’t come with an owner’s manual.”

Niemand laughed bitterly. “Neither did he. Besides, you changed the original guarantee on your partnership.”

Crawford didn’t have a good answer for that and didn’t want to think about it. Instead he said, “We have a job tonight. Then you can... feed. I expect you to control your appetite until then. At least stop cleaning out my kitchen. If _I_ don’t eat, I’ll die. Good night.”

Once again, he locked the bedroom door behind him. 

******************************************************

Crawford still felt too damned tired in the morning, but when he walked into the hallway he heard Schuldig singing. The telepath couldn’t sing worth shit, but the morning song often accompanied a freshly made pot of coffee and sometimes even a few simple, hot breakfast foods. Sometimes Schuldig did such things and shared them with Crawford. Right now he sang that “black widow” song with the ridiculous lyrics that he’d claimed he couldn’t get out of his head.

“Küss mich, schwarze Witwe / Hab kein Mitleid mit mir heut Nacht / Friss mich, schwarze Witwe....”

But the German sounded... off. It was correct but....

It wasn’t Schuldig’s German he heard. It was Crawford’s own. He had a confirmation on that when Schuldig stumbled in remembering that one line of the song _Crawford_ always stumbled a little in remembering, the “All meine Lebenskraft versinkt im Abgrund der Gier” one.

It wasn’t Schuldig because Schuldig was dead. It was a revenant with a taste for human flesh that was working off Crawford’s memories of Schuldig.

Crawford suddenly felt much more tired.

But he smelled coffee as he walked into the kitchen. 

The revenant wore black and dark red... and a dark red headband with dark red sunglasses set atop it. Crawford’s breath caught. It... hurt more somehow that he’d gotten the image of a _younger_ Schuldig back but he couldn’t say why. 

“I would have gone out to get breakfast for us but I don’t have my own keys and I thought you might wake up if I picked the lock on your bedroom door to get yours,” Niemand said.

“Is this coffee for me?”

“ _I_ don’t need coffee.”

Crawford poured some into the Evil Overlord mug Schuldig had bought for him last year and took a taste. The revenant brewed a damned fine cup of coffee. Just the way he liked it.

Of course. It had taken the knowledge from him.

All right. He could be a professional about this. “I need to take you to a firing range to see how your marksmanship is. I have a job tonight, and if you’re good enough you can work it with me.”

“I’m more than good enough for anything you throw at me.”

“We’ll see. Before that, we’ll get breakfast.”

“Sure. It’s the most important meal of the day.” His slit-pupiled eyes took on a bit of last night’s look of drowning, almost mindless hunger. Then he put on his sunglasses.

“Tonight you might get to eat something you’ll find more filling.”

“Brad, that would make you the best super-villain sugardaddy ever.”

It wasn’t Schuldig, but it was close enough to make Crawford shiver a little against his will. 

******************************************************

Crawford didn’t trust Niemand’s self-control enough to sit and eat publicly in a café or diner, so he settled on buying them buttered rolls at a corner bodega. They had a busy day ahead of them anyway and not enough time for a leisurely meal. 

In more honest moments, and he prided himself on being honest with himself, he didn’t know if he could bear to sit across from a younger, goth version of Schuldig and look at him most of the time. Looking elsewhere over the course of breakfast would be obvious and a show of weakness.

As he paid for the rolls at the register he saw a stand of lollipops, and one lollipop was almost the same color as the revenant’s eyes. On a whim, he picked it up as well.

Outside, Niemand leaned against the wall and watched the world through red-tinted glasses. Did Crawford only imagine that he looked at everything hungrily? A passerby said something to Niemand that Crawford didn’t quite catch, then made a noise of pain _before_ the revenant grabbed him by the arm and slammed him into the wall while licking its lips. Seeing Crawford it asked, “If I take this somewhere private you won’t mind? I’m so very hungry and this asshole so deserves it.”

“I don’t... I don’t mind.” Sated, Niemand would probably be easier to handle.

The revenant led its dazed victim behind a dumpster. Crawford would... keep watch and make sure no one happened upon them. The wet noises and crunching sounds that followed didn’t bother him at all, nor did he imagine exactly what Niemand did to feed. Finally the revenant came back into view alone, licking its red-slicked lips and fingers.

“Mmm, his pain was almost as tasty as the meat.”

“What did he say to you?” Crawford had to ask.

“He asked, ‘How much?’ What he had in his mind.... Bastard.”

Crawford handed him the bag with all three rolls still in it when originally he’d planned to give the revenant only two. The coffee had been more filling than he’d expected.

“All for me?” Niemand asked with a big grin.

“Yes.”

“Great,” Niemand said. “That guy left a bit of an aftertaste.”

Crawford had no words to answer that with.

As Crawford drove, Niemand set a napkin on his lap and ate the three rolls calmly and neatly, his strong white teeth biting right through every time without needing to tear or gnaw. He made a small, pleased sound when he found the lollipop at the bottom of the bag. “Best sugardaddy _ever_.” As he sucked on it, it gradually stained his lips purple.

Better than red. 

******************************************************

Crawford had already bought a gun yesterday. At the firing range Niemand held it a lot like Schuldig had but used it more like Crawford used his. Whatever, he had a great eye and a steady hand, grinning in satisfaction as he achieved bulls-eye after bulls-eye. This could work.

Not knowing how the summoning would go, Crawford hadn’t lined up anything particularly challenging for the night’s job. The thugs especially lost their spirit when one tried to punch Niemand in the face only to have the revenant open its lips impossibly wide to accept the fist into its mouth then bite down hard to sever it off at the wrist. It chewed contentedly and kept shooting. The sight and resulting screams turned Crawford’s stomach, and he was the creature’s partner.

When only corpses remained of the opposition, Niemand said, “Brad....”

It would make corpse disposal easier. “Yes. You can.” He didn’t watch, but he couldn’t escape the sounds even from across the room, the wet smacking and crunch of bones snapping. When Niemand finished, Brad saw that it had eaten even the clothes and weapons and left the area utterly clean. Had it even licked the blood up off the floor? Looking at its slim body, Crawford wondered where the hell it put all of that.

Crawford felt ill. Niemand’s satisfied, lusting grin turned into a sad and thoughtful look. 

******************************************************

In the midst of the inferno, Crawford felt heat and smelled bitter burning insulation, harsh burning hair, barbecue-scented burning flesh. Although Schuldig had become a blackened figure of bubbling flesh and blazing clothing and hair, he still leaned against the wall, moved, and made gurgling sounds. Even through his shields Crawford felt pain and a scrabbling feeling as if more pain scratched at them, trying to get through, which confirmed that his telepath still lived somehow. The last coherent thought Schuldig had sent him was, ~ Brad, shield yourself! I don’t know if I can break things off from my end! ~

The one before that had been ~ Wonderful. I get a preview of Hell. ~

Another sudden explosion threw the burning body through the window. Once Crawford had made it through the visions of it and Schuldig’s pain that followed after them, he’d arrived to find the corpse smoldering on the sidewalk. He refused to let himself wonder if Schuldig had still been alive through impact and died here waiting for him.

They’d done solo work many times before. They hadn’t had any reason to suspect that this job would go so wrong.

Crawford awoke with a cool weight settled on most of his body. “Get off me and leave,” he said to Niemand. The revenant must have picked the lock. It had him pinned and he couldn’t break free.

“You need me.”

“I don’t.” Its bare arm against his chest felt utterly smooth, without grain, and Niemand had no heartbeat. Its hair felt too soft and fine, more like spider web. “You’re only reminding me of how inhuman you are.” Good thing, because Schuldig’s voice coming at him in the darkness would have freaked him out without that reminder.

“You’re cruel because you need me. And I’m not an ‘it.’”

“I don’t want you.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“This is not a situation that can be fixed by the healing power of sex.”

Niemand laughed. “You always did have a high opinion of yourself, Brad. I just want to lie here with you. If you’re afraid I’ll eat you, don’t be. You’re more useful to me alive.”

Hearing it stated in cold, mercenary terms made Crawford feel better. “You don’t sleep. I don’t want you staring at me all night.”

“I’ll leave when I get bored.”

“I can’t sleep like this.”

“You will.”

“You won’t make me.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m ignoring you.” But his efforts to ignore the revenant didn’t take him to a better place, because the dream had only reminded him of a night long ago, a time when he and Schuldig had gotten moderately injured on a job. Pissed off and hurting, they’d gone to a bar to relax.

Schuldig had expressed what had happened with “Sometimes you can research and plan all you want, but luck can still fuck you up the ass without lube.”

“That’s why I keep you on: for your beautiful metaphors,” Crawford had answered. They’d sat in a corner booth drinking beer, with their bandages hidden by their clothing.

“Chicks dig it. You love it.”

“Should I call you ‘Schul Dick’ now?”

Schuldig paused, then leaned against Crawford and laughed. “Oh, yeah.”

Crawford blew long orange hair out of his mouth. “It’s not that funny.”

“I know. I think I may be drunk.” 

“You think? Stop leaning on me in public.”

“C’mon, I’m drunk. I loooooove youuuuu, maaaaan....”

“Enough of that.”

Schuldig continued to lean. “You keep me around for my skills. You keep me around for my mouth. You keep me around because your secret that you actually like depressing Canadian movies is safe with me.”

“At least it was safe until now. And is there any other kind of Canadian movie?”

“You love me. You know you would be a boring little man without me.”

“You’re deluded.”

“Suck my schul dick.”

A lot of the rest of the night was a blur, but Crawford had sobered up somewhat in time for sex in the alley later. After climax, he’d said, “This is the story of my life with you.”

Breathing hard, sandwiched between Crawford and the wall, Schuldig had answered, “‘Sex in the Alley: My Life with Schuldig’? Sounds like a hit. Sex sells. And are you complaining?”

“Not really.”

“Good. The world hates a whiner, and so do I.”

Crawford opened his eyes again as he felt Niemand watching him unwaveringly. His chest hurt. He closed his eyes again and tried to sleep. 

******************************************************

He must have slept, because he woke up. Woke up blessedly alone. He never let Schuldig spend the whole night with him. When he walked out into the hall he smelled bacon and eggs and heard Nagi and Schuldig... Niemand speaking. Sounds and scents just like old times. Except not. Usually he would never think to go to breakfast without showering and dressing first, but he needed to immediately investigate what was going on.

“...it’s uncanny,” Nagi was saying.

“Eszett was full of Dr. Frankenstein wannabes. You know that.”

“But I think you’re prettier than he was.”

Niemand _was not_.

...for one thing, he had those weird cat eyes.

“Good morning,” Niemand just about sang out as Crawford entered the kitchen. The revenant wore purple and black today.

“I understand why you keep him,” Nagi said as he ate scrambled eggs. “Schuldig never gave you this good a breakfast with your coffee.”

“I don’t sleep much,” Niemand answered. “I need things to do.”

~ Where did the food come from? ~ Crawford asked.

~ Grocery store. Duh. ‘How’ is that I took your keys and credit card when I left your room. I also had a snack while I was out. ~

~ You won’t do this again. ~

~ Then give me my keys and card. We needed food. ~

~ Why did you let Nagi in here? ~ 

~ He’s always been a smart kid. If it looks like you’re ashamed of me or hiding something, he’ll be impossible to get rid of. Instead, we’re open and casual, nothing up our sleeves and there’s no reason to be suspicious of us. He came by on his own. Should I have run to you to ask permission to let him in like I’m three years old and you’re my Daddy? ~

Completely unacceptable behavior. ~ You don’t have the authority to make these kinds of decisions. ~

~ You don’t have the right to stop me. ~

“Is this a bad time?” Nagi asked, his gaze far too shrewd.

Niemand was correct there. Damn it. Crawford was being outmaneuvered by a creature who was only a little over a day old.

~ I learned from the best. ~

“I’m not ready for company,” Crawford replied.

“So take a shower. We promise not to eat everything while you’re gone,” Niemand said.

Crawford had a sudden mental image of returning later to see Niemand nibbling on Nagi’s gory remains. It nearly stopped his heart until he realized that he’d seen an image of his own twisted imagination instead of a vision of the future. He hadn’t gotten many visions lately, not since that night.

~ I won’t eat him. He’s Nagi. He has a hard teke shell and would probably taste bitter anyway. ~

Unable to trust that, Crawford rushed through his morning routine. This was probably the fastest shower he’d had ever taken, even considering his years at Rosenkreuz. 

Nagi and Niemand looked amused when he returned the table. Nagi asked, “Don’t you feel naked? You still don’t have your glasses on.”

He hadn’t actually needed them in years, not since he’d decided his faulty vision was too big a liability and gotten corrective laser surgery done. Now he wore frames with plain glass because they were a part of his reputation and he enjoyed the effect they produced. For a while he’d worn a monocle, but that and the outfit that had gone with it had led to Schuldig calling him “Brigadier” and speaking to him in a ridiculous “British” accent until he’d finally given up on the experiment and returned to his suits. 

For whatever reason, going back to his suits had gotten Schuldig to stop wearing the Nazi gay porn costume. Crawford’s insults hadn’t accomplished that, because the telepath had no shame. Or taste. Crawford had never cured him of his hunger to be the center of attention at all times either.

Returning for his glasses might be taken as a sign of weakness. “I don’t always wear them now that I don’t need to.”

“All right.”

When Crawford sat at the table, Niemand set coffee, two sunny side-up eggs, and several pieces of only slightly crispy bacon in front of him. All perfectly done, just as he liked them. Losing his cool in front of Nagi wouldn’t be a good thing. “...thank you.”

“I’ll leave now so you can talk about me,” Niemand said as he grabbed a donut and went to Crawford’s room.

“Don’t you dare get crumbs or sugar on anything!”

The revenant just waved his donut at him and closed the door. Why the hell didn’t he go to his own room?

Now that he thought about it, Niemand always slunk past Schuldig’s bedroom as if afraid of it. He wondered why.

“Your brain’s so far away that I could have killed you by now if I wanted to,” Nagi said.

“No, you couldn’t.”

Nagi nearly smiled. “Sure. You know, I see some of the advantages of having him around.”

It wasn’t a real question, so Crawford saw no reason to answer it. “Mmm.” 

“But, excellent cooking aside, he’s so close to Schuldig and so comfortable with me that sometimes _I_ forget who I’m talking to. The eyes are the only real giveaway, since Schuldig used to color his hair.... This isn’t a good idea for you.”

“I’m insulted that you think I’m that weak.”

“Anyone’s sanity would bend under these conditions.” He actually looked concerned.

He had no idea. Nagi only worked with human beings. Crawford lived with a creature that had cool skin, no heartbeat, and an insatiable craving for human flesh, a creature that sometimes seemed like Schuldig and sometimes seemed like a child and had crawled into his bed last night. His only companion. Even better, Crawford had brought this thing into his life of his own will, even though he hadn’t known what he’d done at the time.

Would it be better or worse if Nagi believed such a tale?

For a moment he had the urge to confess the whole sick story to Nagi and find out, present it to someone warm and human and part of a past that hadn’t been idyllic but seemed so much better when compared with the present. But the urge quickly passed. Nagi worked with the Takatori bastard now, and Crawford could well believe that the young man who’d once been Tsukiyono Omi would know how to work with such an emotional outpouring. They would happily fix his life for him, he was sure, but he’d been too long without an owner to volunteer to sell himself to one now. 

He’d brought this curse down on himself. He would fix it himself.

“I miss him sometimes too,” Nagi said.

“Bravo,” Crawford answered. “That was a truly cheap shot.”

“What?” Nagi replied, looking annoyed. “His death supposedly hasn’t affected you at all, so no one else is allowed to react? Meanwhile you’re living and working with the younger goth version of him?”

“It’s the way you’re using it. I might have been inclined to do some jobs for Kritiker if you hadn’t tried to manipulate me.”

“You’re a piece of work. What, are you fucking him too?”

“ _No_.”

Niemand returned, sunny. “See, Brad, you just missed the perfect opportunity to say, ‘I’m fucking Nobody.’ Now, now. Back in your corners, kids. I know it’s hard to get along without me.”

The revenant seemed more Schuldig with Nagi around, which only made sense. “It’s definitely time for you to go, Nagi,” Crawford said. 

“I’m going, but I’ll take one last ‘cheap shot’ before I go. Did you ever think this might not be healthy for Niemand either? He’s a telepath and picking up from you how much he’s like Schuldig, which could reinforce it and undermine his own personality. But you probably don’t care about that.”

“I do care. The less like Schuldig he is, the better. Now that you’ve insulted the both of us, get out.”

After Nagi bowed sarcastically and left, Niemand said, “I think that went very well.”

******************************************************

To Crawford’s annoyance, their current interviewer seemed impressed but also somewhat amused by them. What the hell was his problem?

Unasked, Niemand let Crawford see them through Bennet’s eyes. Crawford looked properly business-like yet somehow also somewhat... off with his silver hair and in his pale suit, older. Next to him Niemand seemed even more like some punkish kid in his black and dark colors and eccentricity, with his long, wild hair and his purple sunglasses covering his eyes. They looked like opposites in every sense, and Bennet wondered if Crawford had deliberately chosen his companion for that. He also thought of them as “Humbert” and “Lolita.”

At least Bennet didn’t think Crawford had chosen a younger partner simply for sextoy purposes.

Crawford never let any of the clients know that Schuldig was a telepath, and that policy served him well with Niemand too. They’d taken advantage of so many people that way by letting the poor bastards just think in their presence.

~ He trusts in your reputation enough to figure that if you brought me in with you I can do more than bend over or give amazing blowjobs. Though I do those too, you know. ~

~ Not with me. ~

~ Not for lack of _me_ wanting it. You’ve turned into such a boring little man. ~

Through the sudden sensation of pain, Crawford reminded himself that he’d brought this on himself. 

******************************************************

That night’s job had been another success. Niemand was skilled, fast, and sadistic. He even... cleaned up the scene after they finished. The only quibble Crawford had with him was that he still wasn’t Schuldig and never would be.

Had he really just thought that? He must be tired.

In the middle of the night he woke up with a cool body in his bed again. “Get the hell out! You have your own room!”

“It’s not mine anymore! It was his!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

Niemand clung like a leech and thwarted every effort to move him. Finally, Crawford gave in to exhaustion and let him be so he could go back to sleep. 

******************************************************

The days began to take on a routine. Crawford had learned in Rosenkreuz that a person could get used to anything eventually. 

They worked a lot. Working meant he didn’t have to think as much. He always went to bed alone with a night light on to avoid... confusion from hearing a dead man’s voice coming out of the darkness when he woke up in the night with Niemand’s cool weight lying on him. Every night. Every morning, he woke up alone to the smell of coffee and often breakfast. When he didn’t smell breakfast, it meant that Niemand had brought in rolls, buns, donuts, or a cereal Crawford liked instead. Crawford had given him his own set of keys and credit card. 

The revenant ate food with him but always had that unsatisfied look of hunger. Sometimes that hungry look latched onto Crawford and stayed there.

When a news report mentioned that more people had been going missing lately this year than last, Niemand said, “Don’t worry. I ride the subways to spread them out and I never leave a mess. Besides, I rarely go after pretty young white girls. We’re safe from the media.”

Crawford’s talent seemed to be failing him, and he missed having it. He’d only seen two, small visions in the last few weeks. 

He slowly found out a few things about his new partner. Niemand had a habit of sucking on his fingers, one at a time, when bored. It had so disturbed Crawford that he’d brought lollipops into the house for Niemand to suck on instead. They presented Crawford with a less barbaric and pornographic image. Slightly less pornographic. Niemand avoided Schuldig’s room so completely that it had to mean something, although Crawford avoided the room himself. The revenant kept his possessions in boxes under the living room furniture. His telepathy was much less powerful than Schuldig’s, which actually was a relief since Crawford couldn’t give him the kind of training Schuldig had needed. Niemand could never just sit at the table, he had to either sprawl or fold himself.

Schuldig had been the same way.

When they didn’t work or eat, Crawford worked on his finances or networking and ignored the revenant, which Niemand seemed pouty about but mostly content with. Left to himself, Niemand watched TV or listened to the music he’d bought for himself in the living room, replacing the CDs Crawford had destroyed after Schuldig’s death. The volume stayed too low for Crawford to legitimately bitch about but just loud enough that he could faintly make out melodies and lyrics. Schuldig had always loved songs about death, pain, torment, betrayal, and sex so the choices really _weren’t_ about sending Crawford a message. Hearing personal messages in someone else’s music had to be a sign that he needed a vacation soon.

One such album Niemand played often particularly grabbed Crawford’s nonexistent conscience until he’d finally been driven to ask Niemand who the hell the girl singing was and why. “She calls herself ‘Poe,’” the revenant had answered. 

It figured.

“The album’s about her father’s death.”

Also figured.

Niemand suddenly smiled in a familiar, predatory way that sent chills through Crawford’s blood. “Is it bothering you, Bradchen?”

“No.” How dare this _thing_ pretend to be Schuldig? If it wanted to play this game it could fucking stay in Schuldig’s room. He had the sudden thought of grabbing it by the arms, flinging it through the doorway, and then setting furniture against the door so it couldn’t get out and he wouldn’t have to look at the damned thing anymore.

Somehow going paler than it already was, Niemand stared at him in blatant horror then fled the apartment at such speed that Crawford couldn’t have caught it if he’d tried. He didn’t quite try. Having lived with a telepath for so many years, he didn’t have to ask what had happened here. Poe wouldn’t stop singing about being haunted, so he turned the CD player off.

For the first time in two weeks he walked into Schuldig’s room. He’d destroyed and thrown away Schuldig’s belongings so only the furniture that had been here when they’d moved in remained. Like this the room was an absence, a _hole_. It ached. He wouldn’t want to stay in this sterile space of nothingness either. 

Still, he sat in one corner of it for five minutes, staring at nothing, realizing that he had a giant void in his home.

He didn’t get much done that afternoon as he waited for Niemand to return home. Nagi and Schuldig had always done the tracking for Schwarz, one by computer and the other by telepathy, far better than Crawford could. He ate dinner and did the mission alone. 

Niemand couldn’t stay away forever. It wasn’t human. It didn’t have any ID paperwork.

It needed him. It was his sin.

Somehow he managed to fall asleep on the sofa and woke to a cool weight curled up against him in the morning. He grabbed Niemand by the hair and pulled, asking, “Where the hell did you go?” Its hair was so soft and fine that his skin shuddered to feel it.

“Around. Everywhere. I did what people do when they’re depressed: I binged on food.” Niemand laughed bitterly as he straddled Crawford’s lap. “Lots of people. Then I went to that German place in Queens that has vanilla ice cream with raspberry sauce over it for dessert.”

Schuldig had mentioned once that such a place existed but never revealed its location, not even the borough, to Crawford. “I need some things that are all mine,” Schuldig had answered.

“I’m going to start looking for a new apartment to move us into,” Crawford said.

Niemand grinned and then kissed him, tasting tart and sweet like raspberry sauce, his lips as cold as ice cream. With a familiar taste on his lips, familiar weight on his lap, and familiar hand cupping the base of his skull, Crawford felt a flare of lust that could dismiss his partner’s chill as March cold and ice cream, the colors as a return to old ways and odd dye-jobs, and the lack of a heartbeat to layers of muffling clothing. He wanted, and it had been so long....

But this was not Schuldig. It wasn’t even human. And it _ate_ people. 

He tried to push it away, but it clung with inhuman strength. “I’m not willing,” Crawford said. “Are you _that_ eager?”

Face set like a blank mask, Niemand backed off and stood up then turned to leave. Crawford rose to his feet and grabbed his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Let go of me, or I’ll break you,” Niemand nearly growled.

“No. And no you won’t.”

“I’ll rip out your heart and eat it.”

“No.”

Blazing with anger and frustration, the revenant’s wine-colored eyes looked brighter and a bit harder, less mindless and drowning. “You make me hate myself for being born the way I am, and I hate that! You make me whiny, and I hate that too.”

“The world hates a whiner,” Crawford murmured, still not letting go.

“And so do I. Fuck yes. Everybody always made judgments about me for what I was born with but you used to be different, you asshole!”

“Do you even know who and what you are?” 

“Not always, and whose fault is that? Why the hell didn’t you leave well enough alone if you were only going to bring me back for this?”

“Niemand....”

“Fuck you!”

This was getting bad. He needed to redirect things. Feeding Niemand helped, but Crawford didn’t do the shopping or cooking anymore and had no idea what was in the house. He had to start paying more attention. In the absence of that, he said, “We’ll see new apartments together.”

Niemand looked surprised and almost teary-eyed. “You... you never let me in on that before.”

He’d never let _Schuldig_ do that before. “Niemand, fix your shields.”

“...then stop being so damned open. You’ll give your brain a draft.” Niemand put on a pair of dark sunglasses. It was harder to remember he wasn’t Schuldig with his uncanny eyes hidden.

They should both work on their mental shields. 

******************************************************

As the realtor babbled on about the natural light and the private entrance, Crawford struggled with a feeling of increasing unreality and realized that he’d been feeling a lesser version of this for some time now. Fatigue perhaps. But the thought of taking some small vacation and having time to think didn’t sound restful at all.

As if he even knew how to take a vacation. Schuldig would always threaten to tie him to something to stop him from checking his e-mail or accounts.

Eventually the realtor tired of talking at him and tried Niemand instead, who actually interacted with her. Watching them, Crawford couldn’t help thinking that something about the scene was wrong.

~ She thinks I’m either a woman or your bitch, and she’s treating me like it. ~

Crawford supposed that he could see where the confusion came in. Niemand had a nearly androgynous look, helped here by his long coat and large, dark sunglasses. In the sunlight coming through the windows (Eastern exposure), his black hair showed more of its emerald green sheen but somehow it looked artistic and cutting edge instead of weird. The purple lollipop he nursed had tinted his lips. Crawford supposed that the realtor thought Niemand to be a hipster or an artist or perhaps just Eurotrash.

~ She’s wondering if I’m a European model. ~

~ Model of what? ~

~ Asshole. ~ But Niemand sounded mellow and amused. ~ I _am_ pretty. ~

~ I didn’t say that. ~

~ You didn’t have to. You’re thinking it. ~

Time to cut this viewing short. Even if he liked the apartment he was so distracted that the realtor would take advantage of him. Did he like the apartment? He didn’t even know. It was... an apartment. “Thank you, but we have to see other properties now. We’ll give this some thought.”

She looked disappointed but said, “Please keep in mind that I can’t hold it for you. If you don’t act soon enough, this great deal may be taken by someone else.”

“I understand. Good day.”

As he and Niemand walked out, he wondered if he really wanted to stay in New York City long enough to make the acquisition of a new apartment worth the time, effort, and money. His indecision annoyed him.

“Nobody can be perfect all the time. Not even you,” Niemand said.

“That’s unacceptable.”

“And people say you don’t have a sense of humor.”

“No one says that.”

Niemand grinned. “No one survives long enough to get away with it.” He stretched, letting his arms reach up straight to full extension. “I have to shop for tonight’s job.”

“Your own clothes should be fine.”

“I want something perfect. I have to look a part. See you, honey.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You’re so mean to your girlfriend.” 

******************************************************

When Niemand returned several hours later and set his bags down, Crawford asked, “Why the hell did you do _that_?”

Niemand had pierced his ears several times and now had silver earrings, with small dangles, running up the curves. He’d tucked his hair behind his ears to better show them off, perhaps hoping for just such a reaction. “I liked it and figured the character I’m playing would have them.”

Crawford couldn’t even explain his own anger and feeling of revulsion. “They’re ugly and unprofessional.”

To Crawford’s greater annoyance, Niemand seemed amused by his reaction. “Farfarello pierced his own ears in several places. He also took out his own eye once upon a time. At least I had somebody do these for me. They don’t interfere with my ability to work. You’ll have to do better than that. Have I marred my great beauty in your eyes?”

“They’re barbaric.”

“If I don’t like them after all, I can just take them out and the holes will heal right over.” Niemand ran his hand over the silver rings. “But I do like them. It’s like having a metal exoskeleton in places.”

Crawford had told him to be less Schuldig-like and more himself. This might be the cost, and it was a small one. “I won’t stop you. I’ve told you how I feel about them.”

“Yep. Now I have to go dress. I’ll tell you when I’m ready to go.”

Crawford hated being irrational, especially when he didn’t even understand why he was being irrational. 

******************************************************

Niemand had dressed in all black with silver accents: skintight jeans, a flowing velvet shirt, boots that laced to his knees, and silver chains with small padlocks on them around his waist, wrists, and neck. And all the earrings, revealed to everyone because Niemand had used slim “jeweled” silver hair sticks to put his hair up and show off his ears. With how soft his hair was he needed to use a lot of hairspray to get it to stay. He’d lined his violet eyes black and left them uncovered. The slit pupils would be taken as contacts in this environment. He strutted inside unchallenged, fitting in perfectly with the other clubgoers.

Crawford stayed in the alley outside. Waiting in the cold, stinking darkness with bass pounding through the brick wall behind him, he tried not to think, just focus and anticipate as a killing weapon. Niemand had said that with a change of clothes Crawford wouldn’t look too out of place inside, but Crawford couldn’t see doing it. 

The revenant had strict instructions to start leading the prey outside as soon as he saw him and made contact, which shouldn’t be long given that research indicated that the target was always here at this time on Saturday nights, predictable, and Niemand fit the man’s type. Niemand could clubhop on his own damn time. 

Time passed, although the thudding bass would suggest that only one song played endlessly. Crawford never understood the appeal of clubs. Finally the door opened and Crawford heard shuffling feet and a soft thud of flesh hitting a wall, not as a body thrown but as someone perhaps stumbling into it. 

“You’re a tasty little slut,” a low voice rumbled. “So cold though.”

“Warm me up,” Niemand gasped, sounding young and utterly American, in character. “Unh! You don’t have to be so rough. I’m totally willing. I can make it good for you.”

“I like it rough. You like it rough too, don’t you, bitch?”

Crawford heard another louder thud, not the bass or a stumble this time, and felt an ember of rage start to grow. They weren’t paid to take abuse. 

“Not really. Stop that. Let me--”

“Tell me no again. It gets me hot. Tell me to stop, you little whore. You want it.”

Crawford came up to the prey and pistol-whipped him, then kicked him in the ribs a few times, even if he was too unconscious to feel it. “My hero,” Niemand said, sounding very pleased.

Something very dark bubbled up inside Crawford. “Does it make a difference to you if your prey’s alive as you eat it?” The client wanted the man dead and hadn’t specified how.

“It’s easier to eat if it’s dead but--” Then Niemand purred, “You really are an evil bastard. He hurt me, and you want him to suffer.”

“Are you interested?”

“Yeah. Fuck yeah. I feed on pain too.”

Cold breath stirred Crawford’s neck above his scarf. Something in him that felt some small horror at reacting to this so emotionally felt glad that it was too dark in the alley to make out the expression on the revenant’s face. “We’re going. I know where we can take him.” 

******************************************************

Their prey’s screams went on longer than Crawford had expected. Niemand must have a gift for keeping it alive despite... what he was doing. Crawford stayed a distance away and didn’t watch, sitting on a crate and waiting.

Smiling, obviously satiated, Niemand strutted back to him without a trace of blood visible. Those jeans were far too tight.

“Wash the makeup and hairspray off,” Crawford said. “But you can keep the earrings if you really like them.”

“Thanks, Daddy.”

When Crawford woke up with Niemand curled up partly on top of his chest, he saw that only three earrings remained, a ring with a dangling charm along the curve of each ear and a stud in one. The other holes had already healed over without even the suggestion of scarring. He knew where they’d been and _he_ couldn’t find them.

The metal felt colder than Niemand’s skin. Watching him through half-closed eyes, Niemand smiled at Crawford and rubbed his chin along Crawford’s chest. At least his pajama top muted the feel of it. Crawford moved his fingers away from the rim of the revenant’s ear. 

******************************************************

Their next job went wrong, badly wrong, once they nailed their target. Crawford should have known that too many missions had gone far too well in too short a time. Hadn’t foreseen it though. He and Niemand sprinted through a hail of bullets. Two had creased his arm but damaged only his coat. This couldn’t continue. Crawford ran possibilities for a good exit through his head.

Something hit him hard from the side and sent him into the wall. Stunned, he came to sitting on his ass on the floor with Niemand over him, currently a dark mass sliding down toward him and finally coming to rest draped atop him as a dead weight. Crawford nearly stopped breathing as he turned Niemand over with his free hand. Even in the impact and his shock, he’d kept his hold on his gun.

The revenant had a big, bloody exit hole through his forehead above his left eyebrow, and Crawford could see his own pant leg through that hole. One lens of his sunglasses had shattered. The broken glasses had slid down Niemand’s face and no longer covered his wide, glassy eyes that stared endlessly at nothing. Dark blood and other matter dripped down his face and onto Crawford’s hands, coat, and pants. Shaking, Crawford rolled the body off him and stood.

She’d said Niemand couldn’t die. She’d said he wouldn’t have to go through this again. In less than two months he’d driven two partners to their deaths.

The gunmen started coming toward him, firing. He dodged and fired back but didn’t actually see much point in it. Outnumbered, tired, out of options, out of vision, he couldn’t see himself surviving this. He’d taken too much on for too long, and now it took its toll. Luck had come for his ass and hadn’t brought any lube. He almost smiled.

The gunmen suddenly looked terrified, and the one closest to him screamed as a bullet went through his eye. Then another took a bullet to the head as well. “Not so much fun now, is it, motherfuckers?” Schuldig gleefully asked from behind Crawford.

Crawford turned. He had to. Niemand, not Schuldig, stood there, of course, gun in hand, firing, grinning, his face half bloody but whole, undamaged, underneath the smears of dark red. Alive. He was alive. Crawford turned again and fired as well, the two of them destroying their shocked and demoralized opponents.

Once silence fell with the last of the gunmen, Crawford walked back to the smiling revenant and punched him in the face so hard he hit the wall and slumped a little. “What the hell was that?” Crawford asked, his voice dark, low, and ugly, shaking. 

Niemand didn’t look upset. “I didn’t have time for anything better. If I wanted to save your life, I had to do it that way. I knew I would heal.” 

“The blood, the _brains_.... You should be dead. You should be mentally deficient. You had a fucking hole _through_ your head!”

“Nope. I’m just that good.”

Crawford felt... felt horrified and glad and helpless and relieved. His legs might give out from under him at any moment. He wanted to grab Niemand and hold him and _shake_ him. “You _never_ do that to me again.”

“Yes, sir. It hurt like a motherfucker anyway.”

Crawford desperately wanted to smack the grin off Niemand’s face but stayed his hand. With his adrenaline rush fading he felt limp and tired. “You can clean up the scene. But do it quickly.”

“Thanks. Healing gives me a bigger appetite.”

Crawford sat on the floor and looked away. His suit and coat were a mess anyway.

******************************************************

He let Niemand take the first shower. With all the dried blood and brain matter flaking off one side of his face, the revenant needed it more. As the shower ran Crawford hung up his abused coat and stripped his clothes away in something of a daze, still not able to think very well, his brain behaving somewhat like a stalled engine. He appreciated the emotional numbness but not the slowed pace of his mind. As he shoved his bloody, ruined clothes in a plastic bag he thought that maybe he should have tossed his bloody and shot-through coat in as well but couldn’t work up the ambition to do it. 

“It’s all yours, Brad!” 

Feeling somewhat lightheaded, he showered quickly and immediately went to bed. But before he could turn the light off Niemand opened the door and asked, “Can I stay with you?” He wore purple silk pajama bottoms and a black T-shirt with the words “You laugh at me because I’m different. I laugh at you because you’re all the same.” on it. Crawford had never noticed that the always awake revenant changed from daywear into sleepwear at night. 

“You never bothered asking before,” Crawford said.

“I’m asking now.”

“All right.”

Niemand grinned and immediately snuggled up to Crawford under the covers. A little shower heat still clung to his skin and hair, making him feel a bit warmer. Of its own will Crawford’s hand went to the back of Niemand’s head and felt for an incriminating dent or lump but found nothing. Front and back, the revenant was unmarked by the bullet that should have ended his existence. 

“That feels nice,” Niemand murmured as his fingers clenched in Crawford’s pajama top.

“I’m not petting you.”

“You can keep on not petting me.”

The repetitive motion shouldn’t be so soothing. Crawford blamed his fatigue for the calming effect of such a stupid, mindless action. “I suppose you feel smug about this.”

“You’re here. It’s good. They would have killed you, and then I’d be alone. I don’t want to be alone.”

Crawford didn’t want to be alone either. 

At Schuldig-speed Niemand climbed up Crawford’s body more and kissed him, kissed the way Schuldig had, hungry and demanding, parting Crawford’s lips to suck on his tongue. He tasted of Crawford’s minty toothpaste. Crawford’s hand, as mindless as the rest of him, still petted what it now rested on: Niemand’s ass.

Niemand moved away a little bit to murmur, “Nobody takes you away from me. They tried tonight. Let me....” He licked his lips. “Let me suck you. I won’t bite. Won’t bite.”

They’d been heading for this for a while. “I don’t--”

“Don’t need this, I know. But want it? You can. You always said it was good to want. Want you. Want you.” 

Niemand wouldn’t save his life just to bite his dick off now. Surely.

Niemand undid Crawford’s pajamas all the way down the front, then licked his balls and half-hard cock in long hard strokes, making little sounds of pleasure the whole time, looking up at him with those purple cat’s eyes that almost looked like a normal human’s now that the pupils had dilated so widely, his long, silky hair sliding along Crawford’s skin. The shock of cold added to the sensations, hardening him the rest of the way and making him buck a little. He should push Niemand away, but it felt too good and his hands slid uselessly through all that too-soft hair. The adrenaline of a job finished and death narrowly averted always left him horny, so this made sense. 

Still, he didn’t like the loss of control. It had been so long since he’d last given himself any release that he wouldn’t last long.

“Don’t care,” Niemand murmured between those savoring licks. Sometimes Crawford saw parts of the mark on the revenant’s tongue, and it seemed to be some sort of circular shape encircling... something. Right now, with his brain melting, he couldn’t quite care. Of course Niemand would be good with his tongue.

Niemand took his cock in so completely that Crawford felt the back of his throat, then sucked hard, bobbing his head. Good, so good. Crawford could get used to the coolness; he could like it. It felt a bit like the play with ice cubes Schu used to do sometimes. 

Crawford wanted to let the pleasure wash over him, wanted to stop thinking, _wanted_.... He came and came and felt limp afterward, briefly blank and washed clean, content just to breathe and be.

It didn’t last. It never did. He could never stop thinking for long. At least his idiot body felt easier and more relaxed for now.

Licking his lips, Niemand refastened Crawford’s pajamas, pulled the blankets up, turned off the light, and snuggled next to him. His sin. 

******************************************************

Crawford woke alone to the sound of cheerful whistling and the smell of eggs cooking. A regular morning in his new afterlife. 

Regular if he didn’t think about how he’d fucked the revenant’s mouth last night and the inevitable changes it would cause in their partnership. He’d made a mistake in allowing it to happen.

The whistling cut off so suddenly and sharply that Crawford knew Niemand had “overheard” that thought and reacted. Damn it. He got out of bed and raced to the kitchen. No one there. He saw Niemand in the living room angrily putting his shoes on, obviously ready to leave.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Crawford said.

“Why not?” Niemand looked lividly angry, purple eyes bright and hard. “You don’t fucking change, Brad. You never change, and it’s about time I give up. You’re just gonna keep fucking me over forever.”

“I want you to stay.” He refused to lose another one.

“No. Not really. You just don’t want me to leave. It’s a different thing.”

“Stay.” If he didn’t make a gesture now, he could lose, so he grabbed Niemand and held him close, caging him. “You’re mine. You said so.”

Niemand melted against him and licked his neck in slow, sensuous strokes, which felt disturbingly good. “You should have named yourself ‘Hungry,’” Crawford murmured.

“You have no idea.”

As Crawford’s cock started to react to Niemand licking him and rubbing up against him, he said, “I don’t want you to expect this.”

“What?” Niemand asked.

“Sex any time you feel like it. We’re professionals.”

“I understand.” 

******************************************************

Niemand was warmer on the inside, and tight. Virginal in body, though certainly not in mind. Impaled on top of him, the revenant rode him like a porn star, like Schuldig. The small part of Crawford that could still think reminded him that life lately had been a series of compromises pushing him backward until he stood at the edge of a cliff. More precisely, putting him here fucking something that wasn’t even human but reminded him of his dead business partner.

“Still so mean to me,” Niemand panted, his long hair brushing over Crawford’s bare skin in waves as he leaned forward. “You should be thinking with the other head.” He clenched his muscles tighter around Crawford’s cock, perfect. Crawford actually blacked out as he came. 

******************************************************

Some time had passed. Crawford could tell by the light coming in through the window. Hearing a low murmur of pain, he realized that he was alone in the bed and Niemand stood in the far corner whimpering as he quickly dressed.

“What’s wrong with you?” Crawford asked.

The revenant looked half-crazed with discomfort. “ _Hungry_.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

A ravenous, burning agony blazed through Crawford. It felt like his body’s stomach acid was eating through his own internal organs in search of sustenance, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Then, mercifully, it stopped. Niemand cast him a wild-eyed look before running from the room, presumably to hunt someone down so he could feed himself.

Was that what it always felt like to Niemand?

As Crawford showered and dressed, he thought hard. 

******************************************************

When Niemand returned three hours later, Crawford said, “We have to talk.”

“I had to eat. Oh, you cleaned up the kitchen.”

“I had the time. Sit.” Crawford did.

The revenant looked wary and rebellious. “I’ll stand.”

“I’m going to find her and make her fix you.” It felt wonderful to have a goal and a plan again.

Niemand looked almost comically surprised. “Say what?”

“I dealt with her to get Schuldig or a comparable partner. Your extreme, painful appetite is obviously a sign that she did something wrong. I’m within my rights to demand satisfaction.” Maybe she could fix Niemand’s temperature as well.

“Like I’m a defective purchase. Great.” 

“You know what I mean.”

“You’re going to make her do something? You really are arrogant. Do you even know where she is?”

“We’ll find her.”

Suddenly Niemand looked afraid. “No. I won’t.”

“I wouldn’t let her hurt you. You’re mine.”

“You gave her the ability to destroy me!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“My body... his body. You gave her Schuldig’s body. She can use that to weaken and kill me.”

“She needed it for the... summoning or whatever she’d call it.” Crawford just had to make Niemand understand.

“She used the body of your sacrifice for material to make me. She kept Schuldig aside so she could hold my destruction over your head like a club to make you obey. Do you really think she’s done with us? Hell no. She’ll come to see us when she’s ready and make demands. If we go along, we get the carrot approach, not that she’ll actually give us what she promised in the end. If we say no, she beats the shit out of us with the stick. That’s the way she works. We’re both just tools to her, you as much as me. Trust the telepath. There was a lot I couldn’t read, but everything I just told you came through loud and clear. I don’t want to bring her attention back to us faster!”

Crawford felt a painful cold about where his heart would be. While he couldn’t quite believe what he heard, not without more proof, it was plausible. She could have taken advantage of his ignorance of alchemy to trick him. In her place, he would have gathered whatever aces he could to ensure future cooperation.

He hated being taken advantage of. “All the more reason to go after her first, when she’s not expecting it.”

“No!” Niemand knelt at his feet, between his legs, and looked up at him in entreaty. “She’ll kill you.”

It felt good to have such loyalty. “I won’t let her.”

“Did you ever think that I’m exactly what she was trying for?”

That she’d known all along she couldn’t bring back Schuldig and deliberately created Niemand to be a cool-skinned victim of a voracious and demanding appetite? “I have. I won’t stand for it.” 

If she had, she’d hope Crawford would become attached to him.

“Besides,” Crawford continued, “as long as she keeps Schuldig’s remains she has a weapon against us.” Like hell he’d let anyone use his telepath to strike at him or his new partner.

Niemand closed his eyes, obviously giving in. “If you must meet her, do it on your terms, not hers. Don’t do it in a place where she’d have a chance to draw an array on the floor or ground.” 

“An ‘array’?”

“Symbols, often surrounded by a circle or arcs, used to help guide whatever process or transformation she’s trying for. I don’t think she always needs one, but if she’s drawn something stay totally clear of it. It’ll limit her a little, because if she gets you inside a circle she can easily destroy you. Don’t trust any proposal she makes to you. She’ll offer you anything she thinks will get you to do what she wants but the odds of her delivering are small. At best, you’ll get the letter of what you asked for while the spirit is totally violated and it’ll be more a curse than a blessing.”

Crawford would have asked if Niemand really thought he could be taken in that easily if Niemand’s own existence hadn’t already been involved. “I have a better idea of what she’s capable of now.”

“You’re arrogant, Brad.” 

He couldn’t entirely disagree with that.

“She’ll take advantage of that. I think she’ll kill you or lead you to your death then destroy me as I try to avenge you. I’m too young to die, especially over something stupid.” Niemand rested his head on Crawford’s thigh. 

“I won’t be distracted or dissuaded this way.” But his fingers twisted in and petted Niemand’s cool soft hair anyway. It touched him to hear that Niemand would try to avenge him. “If you’re sure she’ll come to us, it makes sense for me to research her anyway so we’ll be ready.” He hadn’t given up on seeking her out, but he would take all of this new information into account.

“Why did I have to get attached to such a stubborn moron?” Niemand asked softly.

Crawford pulled his hair a little in warning. “Show proper respect.” When Niemand moved his head and nuzzled Crawford through his pants, Crawford said, “I didn’t mean like that and you know it.”

“It’s closer and easier to do this. She’s not going to come get us in the next half hour.”

Crawford couldn’t help answering, “I can go longer than that.”

“Remind me.” 

******************************************************

Stretching out in bed beside him, Niemand lazily licked Crawford’s skin, sending faint chills through him. Ever hungry? Crawford knew he shouldn’t have given in. 

******************************************************

After almost a week of trying to find her or even a trace of her, they still had nothing, and Crawford’s happily renewed sense of purpose started to wane. She didn’t appear in anyone’s records anywhere, and no one else in the mercenary community they’d contacted had heard of her. It frustrated the hell out of him. Thus, he had mixed feelings when she called his cell to set up a meeting to talk about a job. 

Remembering Niemand’s warnings, Crawford said, “I want to do this immediately.” So she wouldn’t have a chance to draw any traps or lay out alchemical arrays at the location. “Are you in Manhattan?”

“Yes, Midtown on the east side.”

Not far from where they were. Familiar with the area he and Niemand rode through, Crawford said, “Meet me at one of the Dag Hammarskjöld plazas, the one at 47th Street between Second Avenue and Third, the one with the fountain that has water running over a wall.”

“I know the one. We can be there in about 15 minutes. Will that suit you?”

“Yes. I’m interested in hearing your proposition.”

“I’m sure you are. I’ll see you soon.”

As Crawford made the turn, Niemand said, “Great. There’s even a parking garage next to it.”

“No, I want you to drive around to other parking garages too to make sure you get the best deal. I’ll be waiting in the plaza in case she’s early. Tell the attendant that we’ll be parked for an hour.” Crawford double-parked so he could get out and let Niemand take the driver’s seat, completely ignoring the honking from behind him. 

“You’re seriously a freak. A stingy one. You have to be aware of that.”

“It works for me.”

Niemand shook his head, peered at the garage’s sign to see the hourly rate, then pulled the car out into traffic to follow Crawford’s command. Good. He’d try not to think about how Niemand’s knowledge of driving mostly came from Schuldig.

This also gave him some time away from Niemand, who tended to be an overwhelming presence even when he wasn’t in the same room. Also, it gave him some time away from the revenant’s telepathy. He might be less powerful than Schuldig, but for some reason he had an easier time reading Crawford’s mind.

Outside alone, Crawford could feel the weather turning somewhat warmer, time passing, although the sun was still more light than heat. In so many ways living with the revenant had taken him off the calendar. Not good. Being able to notice things changing reminded him that he still hadn’t made a decision on whether to get a new apartment or leave the area, which was unlike him. He’d lost a partner and gained a nightmare _weeks_ ago, so he should be better than this by now. He needed to get his head on straight. 

Niemand thought him an idiot for believing he could bargain with the woman and come out victorious. He might be right, but Crawford had to try.

Did he even know exactly what he wanted out of this meeting? His stated objective had been to get Schuldig back and force the woman to make Niemand more human, but how would “being human” change Niemand’s character? A being previously defined by his ravenous hunger would become different without it. 

A more human Niemand could die or be killed and couldn’t continue to be so reckless. 

People ate lunch at some of the tables nearby so Crawford chose to wait at the part of the walk near the fountain furthest from them. He didn’t want them to overhear the coming conversation, although he hoped that the public location and witnesses would rein in the woman’s behavior. She had to know he couldn’t be manipulated by her claiming hostages.

Would she bring some small part of Schuldig’s body with her as a threat? Niemand had said it could be used against him....

Once Crawford realized he was pacing, he immediately stopped. He didn’t get nervous; he had ice water running through his veins. Even if he did get nervous--which he didn’t--he certainly wouldn’t want it to be noticeable while dealing with her.

He wondered if Niemand was actually price-checking the area’s parking garages as he’d been ordered to. Although he briefly considered reaching out to Niemand’s telepathy or cell phone, he immediately rejected the idea because Niemand would wonder if he should start to worry.

Crawford worried about himself right now. Did he just need a vacation? Perhaps a vacation from his current life.... 

Niemand would follow him. He knew that. He didn’t know of a way to reliably tie the homunculus down or what would happen to Niemand if he couldn’t eat. 

The alchemist and her companion arriving gave him an appreciated distraction from his thoughts. “It’s good to see you,” she said. “I have a proposition for you that we’ll both find beneficial.”

“I’ll have to decide that for myself, of course,” Crawford answered. 

“Of course. Before we get to business, though, I’d like to ask how your new partner is working out for you.”

Although he wanted to pistol-whip the smug smile off her face, he simply answered, “He has some weaknesses and tendencies you hadn’t told me to expect. I’m not entirely pleased, and I feel that you didn’t hold up your end of the bargain.” 

The bodyguard sneered, but the alchemist’s smile widened. “Can you be more specific?” she asked. 

Having the feeling that he shouldn’t go into much detail yet, Crawford answered, “You don’t sound surprised.” 

“What I attempted to do demanded a lot of power. If I had a more powerful tool to work with the results are more predictable. The job I’m offering you would get me closer to getting it.”

“Given what you’ve just admitted, how could I trust you again?” 

“No one else can offer you the resurrection of your original partner, so you have no choice. Correcting your homunculus’ problems would take far less power than restoring the life and healthy body of someone weeks dead whose corpse had been so horribly fire-damaged.” 

“I’m not sure I trust this sudden surge of modesty either, but what are you offering this time? Can you make him human?” 

“Giving him the soul he’d need to be human would require almost as much power as bringing Schuldig back. I’m surprised you’d want him to become human, with all its frailties and limits. I could offer some adjustments to what he is now.”

“I want to know what my choices are.” He wanted to see what carrots she offered, even as he waited for the appearance of the stick.

“If you do some jobs for me, I can give you a choice of the two more ambitious packages. Adjustments to your homunculus would take less power and also less work on your part.” 

“The adjustments should be free as part of our original agreement.” 

“You made assumptions on things I didn’t promise. That’s not my fault.” She didn’t have to say that he couldn’t force her to fix it. Holding up a folded piece of paper, she said, “The name, location, and what I want done to the person mentioned is written on this. It’ll disintegrate on its own five minutes after it leaves my hand so you’ll have to study it quickly. There’s also a phone number in there to contact me if you need some time to consider it. This offer is good for only two days. If you say no to this job within two days but are open to future work, that will be fine, but if I don’t hear from you at all within two days you’ll never see or hear from me again. If you break client confidentiality to try to save the target, I’ll destroy Schuldig’s corpse. Are we clear?” 

It angered him to hear her sound so smugly assured that she had all the power here, but he answered, “Yes. Quite.”

“You said you wouldn’t start without me!” Niemand yelled from somewhere in the distance.

Although Crawford wanted to yell back that he’d done no such thing, he remained silent for solidarity’s sake. Hair and coattails flying out, Niemand leapt up the stairs three at a time to reach them and directed a very insolent look straight at the alchemist’s bodyguard once he came to a halt. He better have a plan behind this. 

“Envy,” the alchemist snapped. Envy’s mouth twitched in anger. 

“Yeah, Envy,” Niemand said. “Listen when your owner yanks on your leash.”

“Envy.” Her stern voice only increased the hatred in Envy’s expression. 

Smirking in a very Schuldig way, Niemand said, “You can act out in little ways all you want, but you know who owns you and you follow her where it counts.” 

Envy took a swing at Niemand, who effortlessly bent backwards to let it miss him and then returned to his original standing position, his smirk wider. Obviously incensed, Envy leapt forward to fight, his hat flying off and his eyes briefly flashing into the same, slit-pupiled, purple cat’s eyes Niemand had before returning to a human green. They fought viciously but with such speed, kicking, punching, twisting. They effortlessly contorted themselves in ways that most humans couldn’t. Each took some savage shots from the other but kept going. Crawford couldn’t help being impressed and seeing the advantage in keeping Niemand a homunculus. 

They’d started to draw a crowd of gawkers though. “Niemand, shut it down,” Crawford said.

“Only if I can be sure he’ll stop too!” Niemand shouted back. 

“Envy, stop now!” the alchemist yelled. 

Niemand leapt backward, his arms and hands out away from his sides in a pose of “ending hostilities.” Snarling but obedient, Envy stepped backward and disengaged as well. Niemand snagged Envy’s hat and held it out toward the audience as he bowed to them and said, “Thank you, everyone!” Some of them threw money into the hat. Good thinking. Crawford had to decide how much he wanted to praise Niemand; he couldn’t let the homunculus get a swelled head. 

“I’ll take your paper, think it over, and contact you when I’ve made a decision,” Crawford told the alchemist. “I don’t accept any job blind.” 

She gave it to him, but said, “Don’t try my patience, Mr. Crawford. That wouldn’t work out well for you.” 

“I hear that.” 

Grinning, Niemand took the money out and pocketed it before throwing the hat back to Envy. Envy shot them both a look promising vengeance before he and his owner left. 

As Crawford unfolded the paper and entered the information into BlackBerry, Niemand said, “Hey, bring me up to speed on what happened.”

“You’re the mindreader.”

“Tell me so I can get it all and make sure I’m right!”

“Not in public. In the car. Where did you park?”

“In the garage right over here. It actually was cheapest. Really.” 

“Uh-huh.” Crawford didn’t believe him for a moment.

The note started to disintegrate as Crawford paid to get the car out of the garage. Worrying about his hand, he dropped the paper to the floor and watched in interest as it disassembled itself. Fortunately, the attendant didn’t notice anything unusual. Crawford had become nearly blasé about this kind of thing. Nearly.

“You drive,” Crawford said to Niemand’s obvious surprise. “I have some considering to do and don’t want to drive distracted.”

“All right.”

Using his BlackBerry to run the target’s name through a search engine, Crawford found himself somewhat concerned by what came up. To his frustration, Crawford couldn’t decide this alone with the information he currently had, so he had to take unusual measures. “Niemand?”

“Yeah?”

“If you could be a regular human, would you want to be?” He’d hardly let Niemand’s answer be the sole determiner, but it would give him more to work with.

Niemand looked suspicious. “That’s an odd question. Before, you were just talking about fixing my appetite.”

“I’m curious.”

“How can I make an informed choice when I only know a little bit of what it’s like to be human and that’s second-hand?”

“You wouldn’t be so ridiculously hungry all the time, and what hunger you did have wouldn’t hurt as much. You’d sleep, and you’d be warm.”

“I could age and die,” Niemand said with a little too much emphasis.

“Yes.”

“Is she dangling potential humanity for me in front of you now? Because if so, I’m wondering when we decided to start trusting her. She certainly hasn’t earned it.”

Should he deny it? Crawford stalled for time first. “Why would you think that?”

Squinting in the afternoon light, Niemand slid the purple sunglasses down off his forehead and over his eyes to use them for what they were actually meant for. “You don’t ask idle questions, and it sounds like you’re fishing.”

Consistency didn’t always reward him. “Perhaps we talked about it a bit.” He wouldn’t mention that she’d also dangled the possibility of getting Schuldig back.

“Because she has _such_ a great track record of keeping her promises.”

“I won’t dismiss anything out of hand.”

“I’ll admit that I’m not an expert and I only have some information taken from her when she least expected it, but I’m not sure she _could_ make me human even if she really intended to.”

“Explain.”

“With alchemy you can’t make something out of nothing and you can’t get something for nothing. Working just regular alchemy can’t bring back the dead because you don’t have the necessary power on tap. You can supply the components for a body but I guess it’s difficult to provide something that’s a component for regaining the spark of personality or... soul, depending your belief system. I have a personality but I think I might not have a soul.”

Wait. “Are you telling me that she couldn’t possibly have brought Schuldig back at that time?”

“Yeah. My, you’re selective about how you take in what you hear. From what I picked up, there _is_ a way to get a lot more power, but the cost is high. It’s created by the massive, simultaneous deaths of a huge number of people. I’m not sure exactly how many, but it’s something like an enormous city full of people destroyed all at once. Even with violence going on around the globe, it’s difficult to get so many deaths in one area in a short time period.” He sounded so cool and professional about it. 

“The job she wants us to take on would probably help destabilize the Middle East. He’s an important diplomat, and the way she wants him dead....” Now it made more sense.

“You’re okay with that?”

“In my early years I was nearly an anarchist. I have no problems with setting the world on fire. It bothers _you_?” With _his_ appetites?

“There’s a maxim that applies here: Don’t shit where you eat. Anarchy and the crackdowns that would follow would _suck_.”

“There’d be a lot of human food for you, maybe enough for you to finally feel satisfied for awhile.”

“I thought you were considering making me human. If so, that wouldn’t be so enticing. Besides, I don’t know if I _could_ feel full as a homunculus. It’s like there’s a black hole inside me,” Niemand answered, sounding thoughtful but also sad.

Although Crawford felt tempted to say that Niemand couldn’t possibly mean that literally, Niemand’s very existence unfortunately showed that Crawford didn’t know everything about life and the world. “Are you suggesting that everything you eat travels elsewhere?”

“Possibly. I can’t turn myself inside-out to know for sure, but you have to have noticed that I can devour things larger than my body in one sitting.”

“I have.” Thinking further, Crawford said, “I wonder how many other operatives she might have on the string on various assignments to get her the results she wants.” He felt like one of the blind men with the elephant, a feeling he thought he’d ended for good when Schwarz destroyed Eszett’s elders. 

“I couldn’t read that out of her mind, but I did get something while she was distracted by and ticked off about my fight with Envy. It was a stone building on a hill, and it felt like her home base. I’ll draw it when we get home and see if you have some ideas.” 

“Was that why you picked that fight?” 

“She’s hard to read. Dante has good shields and a lot of psychic residue clouding things further.”

“Dante?”

“I got her name. I hoped getting her distracted and pissed off would give me an easier time getting into her mind. The angrier Envy got the easier he was to read too.”

“That was actually smart.”

Niemand had a cocky grin on his face. “What do you expect? I have a lot of Schuldig and you in me.”

“You have his obnoxiousness and a little of my brains.” Was he really going to banter with Niemand? It seemed... unearned. It had taken much longer for him to start bantering on occasions with Schuldig. 

“You’re just jealous of me. You know what your problem is?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“You keep making things more complicated than they have to be. You used to be more practical.”

After a moment’s thought, Crawford had to admit to himself, as much as he hated it, that Niemand was right. He’d once been more practical and more inclined to accept that reality wouldn’t always be the way he wanted it. He wouldn’t have survived Rosenkreuz or Eszett without that. 

How had he become so rigid and fragile in what terms of reality he’d accept? Had he become so accustomed to getting his way that a few setbacks crushed him? Even if one of those setbacks was the death of a longtime work partner, he should be _better_ than this, and it galled him that a being only a few weeks old had needed to point it out to him. Since Schuldig’s death he’d been staggering around and thinking like a man with a traumatic brain injury. 

“In a way, you do have a brain injury,” Niemand said lightly. “The sudden dramatic loss of a mental link that old and established does some damage.” 

That could be a contributing factor. Schuldig always had enjoyed tangling himself up in everything Crawford did and was. Still: “I don’t appreciate you eavesdropping.” Crawford wanted to hit him for such effrontery. 

“Your brain is shouting at the moment. Right now it’s harder to block your thoughts _out_. In other words, stop making eavesdropping so easy.” 

It bothered him that he might have been living in a fool’s paradise, letting a power-hungry madwoman manipulate him with impossible promises of resurrection and humanity. He hadn’t fallen prey to Eszett’s version of that. Then again, most of his information against her came from Niemand, who was hardly a disinterested, objective party. 

“What’s that look on your face about?” Niemand asked.

“Can’t you just read it out of my mind?”

Niemand looked somewhat disgruntled. “Not right now.”

“Good. Drive us home so you can start drawing out the building you saw.” 

******************************************************

The picture Niemand handed him about 40 minutes after first putting pencil to paper puzzled Crawford. The homunculus had sketched in enough detail around the building to easily suggest a graveyard, but the building itself had such an odd shape. It looked like a square in front of a rectangle flanked by two shorter cylinders, topped by a triangle, another longer cylinder with some windows drawn on it, a dome, and some stick figure at the very top holding... something. 

“What the hell?” he had to ask. 

“I wasn’t created for my drawing ability,” Niemand answered in obvious annoyance. 

“Obviously.” 

“Grrr. Hold on.” Niemand snatched the paper from him to flesh out the front square by drawing a rectangular doorway topped by a half-circle and two columns on each side of the door going up a bit but not quite reaching the triangle. Under the triangle he wrote a name in capital letters. 

Crawford had a clearer conception of the building and its purpose now. “Is that stick figure on top holding a long cross?”

“I think so.”

“This looks more like a mausoleum than a chapel.” Morbid bitch. 

“I got the impression it’s not too far away. It’s in the New York City area.” 

“That doesn’t look like anything I’m aware of in Manhattan.”

“I don’t think it’s in Manhattan.”

That “only” left Queens, Brooklyn, the Bronx, and Staten Island. In a city as large as New York City that had been situated for centuries, how many thousands of mausoleums could there be? At least they weren’t looking for a gravestone, which would put the possibilities into the millions, possibly billions. 

“Some things I’ve seen suggested that the dead people outnumber the living in Queens. Don’t throw a fit, Brad. I’ll hit the search engines to see if I can narrow things down. Of course, I’ll need access to your computer to do that.” 

“You haven’t bought yourself one yet?” 

“What do I know about computers? Too many choices.” 

That made too much sense. “Fine, but don’t use it for any other web surfing. No porn sites, no _food_ sites.” For Niemand food sites might count as porn. “I’ll be really angry if you get a virus on it.” He could always get some business done with his BlackBerry.

“Yeah, yeah. Turn it on for me.”

Doing so gave Crawford the weird feeling of being a parent readying the family computer for a child to do homework, so he tried not to give it much thought. Niemand pouted at him as he left him alone in favor of sitting on the couch to get down to business with his BlackBerry. Eventually he heard the printer run but since Niemand didn’t approach him he kept working on his own. In a while the printer ran again and this time Niemand walked over to him with some papers.

“I rule,” Niemand said. “I found it. It’s in First Calvary Cemetery in Queens.” 

The printout Niemand gave him showed a mausoleum that looked a lot like his sketched building set into a familiar hill, making the homunculus a better artist than Crawford had given him credit for. He hadn’t replicated the seated angels or some of the crosses, but he also hadn’t gotten a lot of time to look at that image in the alchemist’s head. Plus, the name on the mausoleum matched.

This show of ability made Crawford feel almost fond, nearly proud. “Nice.”

“I also got and printed out our driving directions.”

Figuring he should reward good behavior, Crawford said, “Good job. Since it’s too dark now to go out investigating it, we’re going to an all-you-eat buffet.” 

Laughing, bouncing a bit, Niemand said, “We’re going to give someone a heart attack! Excellent!” 

“After three hours we’re done. It’s not like you’ll ever get full.”

“Awwwww!” 

******************************************************

Niemand surprised Crawford at the buffet by controlling himself. Although Crawford had expected him to gobble at high speed, Niemand simply ate at a slightly faster speed than most people would and told him he’d make sure no one at the restaurant would record him on a camera phone if they started to suspect something off about him. Showing up on YouTube for a freakish feat of eating wouldn’t profit either of them. It showed a surprising thoughtfulness on Niemand’s part. 

Otherwise, Niemand grinned and fidgeted in his seat like an excited kid. 

They both filled their first plates with a variety of food. Crawford drank his coffee, read a newspaper, and tucked into his food at a slow, nearly meditative pace. By the time he’d emptied about half _his_ plate, Niemand went up for a new one. Then a third. Then a fourth, just as Crawford finished his first. No one had noticed anything amiss yet. Then a fifth....

As Crawford meditated over his coffee, something came back to him. “You called her minion ‘Envy.’ Is that a nom de guerre?” 

Niemand set his fried chicken drumstick down. “No. He’s Envy. He doesn’t have another name. We’re sins.”

 _We’re_ sins. That answered Crawford’s question as to whether Envy was also a homunculus. “Literally?”

“I don’t really know how it works.”

Crawford had to ask, “Which one are you?” for confirmation. 

Niemand made an expansive hand gesture to his plate. “Which one do you think? But I’m not just Gluttony; I’m not all appetite.” 

In many ways, Crawford found the parts of Niemand that weren’t all appetite to be even more unsettling. “Hmm.”

“I get the feeling that none of us have ever been mindreaders before. Then again, let’s not ever give Dante the idea of restocking with psychics.”

Somehow Niemand always found a way to make his persistent headaches worse. “Yeah, let’s avoid that.”

“I didn’t really get the whole sins thing or our connection until we met up with them again today. My birth was... crazy. Too much information flooding in, and I couldn’t keep track of who I was and everything going on....” Niemand looked nearly haunted for a moment thinking about it.

One of the buffet’s employees walked past their table after checking out the buffet tables then returned to them and stared at the eight emptied plates, one Crawford’s and the rest Niemand’s, stacked near the table edge. Sounding very innocent, Niemand said, “The sign told me to get a new plate every time I went back for more. Was it wrong?”

“No. Excuse me.” The guy swiftly returned to the kitchen.

“And so it begins,” Niemand said with a grin as he continued eating. 

For the next half hour Niemand kept making trips to the buffet, returning to the table, and devouring everything. Employees kept bringing out new trays of food and looking ever more harried and incredulous as time went on. Niemand’s extreme eating started to attract some attention from other diners, although Niemand assured Crawford that none of them would think to take photos or record them. None of them did.

Crawford noticed a very angry man walk into the dining room from the back and figured it to be the owner. His arrival coincided with their time limit. “Three hours. Time’s up, Niemand.” Crawford put his coat on. 

“Really? You’re not just saying that because the owner is coming?”

“I’m not just saying it.”

“Aw. Still, we could have a bit more fun before we go.” Niemand put his coat on as well. When the red-faced owner reached him, Niemand said, grinning, “You guys have great food here. Excellent. We have to come back some time. We’re ready to pay our bill now.” 

******************************************************

Niemand laughed about it all the way home. “I thought he was going to go into convulsions! He went through about ten emotions in half a minute. He’s wondered how he’ll handle it if we come back! That was great. Thanks, Brad!” He started to follow Brad into his bedroom. 

“Good,” Crawford answered, “but you’re not coming into my room.”

Niemand pouted. “Why not?”

“You’ve had your reward, and I’ve indulged you enough for one evening. I have to be well-rested for the next phase against Dante, and you keeping me up all night gets in the way of that.”

“It wouldn’t be _all_ night. I know that you’re only human.”

“I need to be clear-minded and well-rested. That means that I’ll just be sleeping.”

Niemand got a dark grin on his face. “It’s not like I can’t let myself into your room later. Make it easier on yourself and give in now to avoid the surprise.”

The homunculus wouldn’t fucking stop _pushing_ him, so it was past time to push back. “I’ve had it. I won’t put up with that shit. You _really_ don’t want to cross that line because I would never trust you for anything again.” He half expected Niemand to pout and keep going until he forcibly shut the little bastard down. Although he didn’t know for sure what would work, he’d happily try everything that came to mind.

“All right, I’ll respect your wishes on this,” Niemand said instead and even looked a tiny bit chastened, which gave Crawford a deep satisfaction he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Good night.” Yet he still remained awake for another two hours and didn’t sleep well afterward out of some expectation that Niemand would disobey and climb into bed with him anyway. 

******************************************************

“What are you so cranky about?” Niemand asked, sounding annoyed as he put scrambled eggs and a few strips of bacon on Crawford’s plate. “I followed orders last night.”

“I know.” Crawford didn’t say anything about how badly he slept out of the expectation that Niemand would offer a Schuldig-like answer on how he could have improved his experience in bed. “Today may turn out to be an important day for us.”

“You’re the one holding us up by gazing blearily at your breakfast instead of eating and getting ready, Herr Crankypants. I already have our tools and a cooler full of food set up to take with us.” 

“You’re contributing to my crankiness.” But he started to eat because the homunculus was correct and had made an excellent meal and coffee as usual. 

“Yeah, yeah.”

The traffic they faced going through and leaving Manhattan didn’t help Crawford’s mood either. At least the driving directions Niemand found on the internet went correctly to the cemetery and they couldn’t possibly miss the huge mausoleum, which dwarfed the others, even in the distance and pouring rain. 

Being cautious, he parked the car about half the length of the cemetery away from it and asked, “Scan it. Can you sense any trace of her or any other useful things? Do it lightly and carefully to make sure they don’t notice.” His precognition kept failing him. 

“I can sense her and Envy inside but can’t get anything more revealing or substantial than that. Morbid old bitch. How do you want to play this?”

“I want to wait until they leave or nightfall, whichever comes first. It would be better if they left so we could do reconnaissance, but if they’re still inside when we invade we should take the opportunity to end her. I figure I’ll have you telepathically check for their presence once every hour.” 

The rain would cut down on visibility so he wouldn’t feel so out in the open; drivers on the 495 couldn’t see this far into the cemetery and the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway was a distance away and very high up but he still worried that some weirdly observant driver on the one fairly close local road might somehow notice something, especially since he and Niemand would be heading in with a duffle bag of digging, prying, and cutting tools and with a shotgun each. He needed to be as confident as possible going in, especially since he already felt some superstitious qualms about breaking into a mausoleum inside a cemetery. 

It annoyed him that living with Niemand kept showing him that he considered more things taboo than he’d realized. He should have been beyond that by now. 

He wished he wouldn’t have to spend hours inside a small car with Niemand. 

Swallowing down his qualms and annoyance at himself, Crawford said, “I’m going to drive us up so you can take a photo of the doors so we can figure out how we’ll break in. Use the zoom and remember that we can’t stay there long.” He hoped the rain wouldn’t obscure things too badly. 

“You don’t have to tell me how to do my job.” Niemand kept responding to Crawford’s fits of ill temper by reacting like Schuldig, which was disquieting as hell.

Thankful that the mausoleum faced its adjacent road, Crawford drove the car up and let Niemand take some shots with a digital camera out his opened window. “Do you have it?”

After reviewing for a few seconds, Niemand answered, “Yeah. I know how we can get past this. It shouldn’t be that hard. I’m glad she’s not using one that has the front door bricked or cemented up.” As an alchemist, she could probably create her own entrance.

Crawford tried not to think that she’d chosen one with a working door because she wanted to entice and trap intruders. Maybe she just wanted to make things easier on herself. She was far from omniscient and omnipotent. 

Yeah, he’d have to keep telling himself that.

Crawford sped off and out of the cemetery, only half-listening as Niemand closed the window and complained about how he’d been dripped on. As he did a drive around the boundaries of the cemetery to see which part of the fence would be easiest to climb over later, he couldn’t help worrying about what they’d face from Dante. They had no idea what kind of power the woman could draw on within her own hideout, and they might not be equal to the task. As much as it appalled him, he might need and have to ask for backup. 

He knew from the professional grapevine that Nagi had come back to New York City two days ago for business reasons. 

Once he’d parked the car nearby for their stakeout, Crawford composed a message for his former protégé on his BlackBerry. The nature and extent of Dante’s abilities posed some challenges when he tried to sum them up in short efficient sentences, but at least an Eszett alumnus wouldn’t dismiss them as crazy talk, especially not after dealing with the Elders’ plan. 

Invasive as usual, Niemand had leaned over to see what he was doing and said, “Calling Nagi in to be our big gun? Great idea.”

“I’ll only call him in if we can’t handle the situation ourselves.”

“Why wait? We should just go in gangbusters as a three-man army and nail her.” 

Convinced that he might be able to wring concessions from Dante, maybe get at least one of the things he wanted, Crawford didn’t want to go in and just kill her straight off. Since he doubted Niemand would go along with that plan, he shielded his mind off and said, “I don’t need Nagi.” Which was true.

“If your pride gets us killed, we’ll haunt you. You know exactly what I mean.”

Niemand and Schuldig? It sent a shiver through him. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t believe in an afterlife.”

“I probably don’t have a soul so who knows where I’d go and what I could do?”

“I hate you,” Crawford said half-seriously.

“Not as much as you wish you did,” Niemand answered with a very Schuldig angry/pleased smirk.

Now he had to spend hours in the car with an annoyed as well as bored partner. Great. 

Maintaining his dignity by acting above it all, Crawford kept typing, asking in the message that if Nagi chose to get involved here that he only did it after being specifically called in by him. Crawford hated even having to send such a plea for help and hoped backup wouldn’t be needed. Besides, Nagi had too many questions about Niemand and could be difficult to put off. 

Hours passed slowly. It didn’t help that Niemand was in a snit and ignoring him in a hostile way, or that every so often he’d start eating something he’d packed for the trip, sometimes with loud crunching noises as his preternatural teeth bit right through something human teeth couldn’t handle.

Even though it was still raining heavily, eventually Crawford had to get out of the car to stretch a bit and get some solitude for a little while. The cold water pounding on his umbrella didn’t sound as annoying as it had pounding on the car while he was inside. He became damp within moments but couldn’t bring himself to care about it much. 

Although it made him laugh derisively at himself, he had to admit that he missed the old Schwarz and felt tired. He’d felt tired for weeks. Pathetic. If a team member had complained like this to him he would have kicked that teammate’s ass and given him something he could _really_ cry about. 

“You’re remarkably emo. At least you have the floppy hair for it,” Niemand said from under his own umbrella. Something about the lighting on this overcast day emphasized the green tinge in his black hair. 

Annoyed, Crawford answered, “Unless you have news about Dante, you’re violating the purpose of me getting out of the car.” 

“I was just trying to save your life. It looked like you were drowning out here, in more than one sense of the word. If you get sick after this, I won’t be coddling you. You’d have to get your own damn meals, juice, and damp washcloth. Besides, I know that if I didn’t get permission to use your laptop first you’d bitch and moan endlessly about it.”

“What the hell do you need my laptop for?”

“I want to load the photos from the camera into it so I’ll have a larger, more detailed view of what we’ll be facing. The review screen on the camera is tiny.”

“You said you could get through the door based on what you saw through the camera.”

“Better to be safe than sorry, right? Besides, it’s not like we have a lot of other things to do right now.”

“I’ll turn it on and set it up for you.”

“Thanks, Daddy!” 

He saw definite minuses to having a partner he couldn’t kill. 

Back in the car, Niemand grabbed the laptop from Crawford’s hands almost as soon as the Desktop finished loading and plugged the camera in. After a minute of looking through the images, Niemand said, sounding somewhat creeped out, “Shit. I hope Dante isn’t the decorator.”

“Why?”

Niemand turned the screen to face Crawford. The very old and somewhat broken metal screen door had a straw wreath attached to it. A white bunny dressed somewhat like a farmer sat in it, perhaps as an Easter decoration, and it had a single word on it: Welcome. Fuck. 

Maybe the family hadn’t really thought about the implications or just thought the wreath was cute. Or maybe Dante was a sick bitch. 

They knew Dante was a sick bitch. 

“We already thought it might be a trap and decided to go in super careful,” Niemand said. 

The bane of his existence was giving him a pep talk. Amused, Crawford answered, “Yes, we did.” 

“How much longer do you want to wait on this?”

“Nightfall.”

“This would be a lot easier if your car weren’t so small. It’d be much more comfortable if you had a van.” 

“People look at vans with some suspicion.”

“It’s not like we’d be molesting children. Maybe just me eating them.” 

The things Crawford had gotten used to lately. “That wouldn’t assuage any fears. Just confirm them actually.”

Suddenly, Niemand looked startled. “Dante and Envy’s mental signatures just disappeared. I don’t mean that they just stepped out of the mausoleum for a walk or _died_ , I mean that it’s like they never existed. I have no idea how they could do that.” 

“Could there be an alchemical array that would let them do that?”

“I have no idea. Shit. If we go in there tonight we’re really going in blind.”

As awful as that sounded, Crawford answered, “If we don’t do this tonight they’ll just have more time to plan for us.”

“And more time for us to psych ourselves out. I get that.”

“It’s dark enough now.” It had even stopped raining. “We might as well go.”

As they struggled to put on their mission gear in the small space, Niemand said, “Now if you had a _van_....”

“Shut it. I don’t expect oxygen to be a problem in there because Dante has to breathe herself.” 

“Also, mausoleums have air vents.”

“What?”

“To let odors and gas out. Surely they let fresh air in.”

“How would you know about mausoleums and air vents?”

“That German restaurant in Queens was near several old cemeteries. On warmer nights when I was especially soused I sometimes hung out in one and scared the shit out of equally soused local teenagers who hung out there. A little telepathic distortion and German spoken directly into their heads had them convinced they’d seen a genuine ghost or five. There’s not much to do in that town at night.”

Crawford still couldn’t quite process it. Too loony. “So Schuldig haunted a graveyard?”

“Despite what you thought, it wasn’t all clubbing and anonymous sex.”

“That’s _sad_.”

Shooting Crawford a dirty look, Niemand said, “I didn’t do it often, and I only did it in decent weather and while drunk. What did _you_ do most nights? What mementos did your beloved accounting leave you? At the end of your life, what will you have to fondly look back on?” 

“Work done well.”

“ _That’s_ sad. No matter how well and thoroughly you do it, your work will never love you back.”

Crawford shook his head. “Less talk, more work.”

Finally they had their boots and matte gray-black hooded raincoats on to protect them from the mud and drizzle. Being stronger than a human and tireless, Niemand carried the duffle bag of tools and the case containing his shotgun, while Crawford just carried his own shotgun case. 

Their earlier drive had given Crawford an idea of where it would be easiest to get over the fence. Unfortunately, parking was restricted on that street, which would make the car the only vehicle parked on that stretch. He didn’t want to take the chance of police moving their car or waiting for them, but this also prevented them from having the car nearby as a quick escape. They had a long walk to and from the cemetery. 

The cemetery had three different kinds of fencing depending on which part you looked at. Some was spiked metal, some was tall cobblestone topped with vertically placed sharp stones on top, and some was spiked metal fencing on top of tall cobblestone. Crawford had chosen a shorter metal fence that had a lot of its spikes knocked off, probably by vandals, and was on the other end of the cemetery from the main entrance. 

Crawford imagined that if Niemand slipped and was pierced by some of the metal fence he’d just pull the body part off it and let the injury close up.

Orange street lights gave the edges of the cemetery illumination, but further in the cemetery was a mass of monument-shaped black shadows. They’d need the small flashlights attached to their headsets. 

Niemand quickly and easily leapt over the fence and landed with a squishing sound. ~ Be careful. My feet slipped a bit in the mud. Toss your case over first. ~

That sounded like a good idea, so Crawford did it right before climbing over the fence himself. The mud squished under his booted feet but he controlled the skid it nearly caused. As he took his shotgun case back, Niemand said, ~ Wild rabbits live in here. If someone caught us we might say we were hunting them. ~

~ With these guns it’s not so much shooting rabbits as exploding them, ~ Crawford answered. ~ It wouldn’t wash. ~

~ Yeah, I figured. Watch your footing. It would be easy to step into or trip over a hole. ~

Which Niemand knew because Schuldig had haunted cemeteries. Crawford hated his life. ~ You’re the expert. ~

~ And I’d do this kind of thing drunk. ~

Crawford’s glasses fogged, so he removed them. After all, these days they were a prop instead of a necessity. Crawford’s small flashlight only illuminated the area within half a foot in front of him, still leaving him feeling nearly blind. Speedy and graceful, Niemand walked far ahead of him, and Crawford couldn’t help wondering if his slit pupils let him see better in the darkness. 

It had become warm enough lately to thaw out the ground a bit, making it possible for the mud to slide beneath his feet and sometimes suck at his boots. They would have been better off doing this a month earlier, but they hadn’t known about this a month earlier so he cut himself a break. Depending on the stone used, the monuments near him looked shiny or moist from all the rain, and he refused to touch them even to steady himself. He occasionally stubbed his toes and refused to let himself jump when the partially dissolved face of a really old statue startled him. 

Niemand sometimes drew attention to upcoming obstacles through telepathic notes like ~ Hole ahead! ~ or ~ Watch out for the indentation in the ground to your right. ~ Crawford couldn’t help letting out a deep exhale of relief when Niemand said, ~ We’re at the road. I think we should stay on it until we reach the steps up. ~

Less effort spent on navigating through mud and between stones (and internally freaking out) would allow him to put more effort into being faster and stealthier. ~ I agree. ~

Not long after reaching the road they came to the steps up to the mausoleum. Although the first set of steps, between two mausoleums, were easy, the next set of stairs felt slicker, forcing Crawford to walk more carefully. At last they stood in front of the green and somewhat broken metal screen doors with their “Welcome” sign and straw wreath with the bunny sitting in it. Although Crawford kept expecting an attack to come, nothing materialized. 

Niemand unwound the green wire that fastened the wreath on and rewound it around the more intact door on the left with a care that surprised Crawford. Then he picked up the thick, rusted metal chain with its padlock and bit right through the chain, the rest of it slithering off the doors to the ground, which made Crawford wince a bit as he thought about the times he’d put his dick in that mouth. 

Expecting _something_ to strike them down for this, Crawford had his shotgun ready to fire at anything that might hit, while Niemand opened the metal screen doors, without breaking them, then grasped the metal handle of the marble door beneath it and pulled it open. Nothing attacked them, but it was pitch black inside. 

~ Expecting to get hit by a heavenly lightning bolt for your sins, Brad? ~

~ Shut up. Is your telepathy picking anything up? ~ Crawford asked.

~ No. I have a bad feeling about this. ~

~ That’s the sane reaction. ~

They walked inside, and Niemand gently closed the doors just enough to make it less obvious from a distance that someone had broken in. Crawford had expected the air to be staler and smell fouler than this, even as he found himself battling an unusual feeling of claustrophobia. The stone around them somehow felt so _heavy_. Dante didn’t appear to be here, and he didn’t see anything that obviously belonged to her. Yet with the doors closed Crawford did realize he perceived some kind of dim light source even aside from their headset flashlights, which was odd. 

~ Huh. Go around this sarcophagus or whatever it is here and take a look, ~ Niemand said.

Having gone around as directed, Crawford saw a large and suspiciously perfect hole in the floor, with what seemed to be torchlight visible through it. ~ So, what, did she hollow out the hill under here for her own use? ~

~ Could be. I see a ladder down.... I’m still not perceiving anything telepathically. How about you? Any visions kicking in? ~

Crawford wished. ~ No. ~ They had no idea how big the area was or what awaited them down there. ~ Now I wish we’d brought the camera. ~

~ What? Fasten it to the shovel handle, set the timer, and lower it down? ~

~ ...yeah. ~ Niemand might look more like a young Schuldig, but sometimes the improved planning of a mature Schuldig came out in his thinking. 

Of course. Crawford had gotten used to working with the more mature Schuldig, and Niemand took his cues from that.

Niemand asked, ~ So, who gets to go down it first? Age before beauty, I say. ~

~ You’re harder to kill. ~

~ Against anyone _except_ these enemies. ~

**to be continued**


End file.
